


why don't we do it in the road

by happy_hufflepuffle



Series: the beatles song fics [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, The Manchester Apartment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-30 18:37:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18320966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happy_hufflepuffle/pseuds/happy_hufflepuffle





	why don't we do it in the road

It's raining. It's windy and wild and loud and the noise of the storm hammers against the windows and forces its way into the apartment. 

"It's penetrating us from all angles." Phil says, and Dan halfheartedly attempts to shove him off the couch. 

"Shut up." he mutters, too fond for his words to have any effect. He reaches for the bottle of cheap wine that sits precariously amongst their tangled limbs and takes another swig. It tasted terrible a while ago but as they've gotten tipsier its flavour has improved. 

"Oi, give it." Phil says, pulling the bottle away to swallow down the last of the bad alcohol.

Dan laughs for no reason, a little giddy and wine-drunk, until a particularly loud crack of thunder startles him and he nearly slips off the couch. 

"Ha!" Phil exclaims triumphantly. "That's what you get."

"Shut  _up."_ Dan whines.

"Make me."

 _There is no way that sentence is ever_ not  _sexual,_ Dan thinks as he jumps onto Phil and wrestles him off the couch. They're a bit too lanky to be playfighting like this - he knocks his shins painfully against the coffee table several times - but something about the grown-up-ness of having their own apartment in the city makes him feel a little childish and reckless and young. 

"Gotcha!" Phil declares, finally getting the upper hand and planting himself firmly on Dan's hips so he can't do anything more than struggle futilely. 

"I submit, I submit." Dan giggles, and Phil leans down to kiss him. For a moment he's tempted to take advantage of Phil's sudden weakness, flip them back over perhaps, but he dismisses it in favour of sneaking a hand up the back of Phil's shirt and feeling the warm softness of his skin. It sometimes feels like something of a miracle that he's allowed to touch Phil like this. To feel his diaphragm contract as he breathes, feel the beat of Phil's heart against his own, discover the curves and lines of Phil's body and to know what Phil smells like, tastes like, feels like. 

Phil sits up suddenly, pulling out of the kiss. Dan  _hmph_ s in complaint but Phil just grins innocently. "We should go out." he says.

"In the storm?"

"Yeah." Phil says as if it's obvious. 

"Okay." Dan says, because he followed Phil online and then into real life, followed him to a city without regretting a thing, and sometimes he feels as if he could follow Phil anywhere.

They don't bother with coats, racing down the stairs and stumbling into walls and each other. It's probably not the smartest idea to sprint down stairs while their brains are foggy and their actions clumsy from the alcohol but they're lost in the high of adrenaline and laughter, and all the wildest ideas seem sane right now.

"Come on," Phil keeps saying, over and over again. "Come on, come on, come on."

They reach the bottom of the stairs and run out into the dark night.

Wind whips the trees into a frenzy, leaves flying everywhere, and the rain soaks their clothes through in seconds. Somewhere down the street, music is blaring, a steady drum beat that thumps out into the night and mixes with the noise of the storm. The lyrics are harder to hear but when Dan strains his ears he manages to make them out. 

 _Why don't we do it in the road?_  

_No one will be watching us_

_Why don't we do it in the road?_

They're still holding hands from the final, mad dash down the last flight of stairs and Dan feels Phil squeeze three times.  _I. Love. You._ He looks up, looks at Phil's face in the city glow, and something swells in his chest. 

"Why don't we do it in the road." Phil sings quietly, grinning. Dan keeps looking silently, memorising every inch of Phil's face in this moment. The wind blowing his fringe into different directions, his eyes shining in the wild night, the raindrops running down his face and dripping from his nose. 

"I love you." he says back, out loud. Because right now they're completely anonymous. They're the only two standing here and there's no one commenting or seeing or taking pictures. It's just them and the storm and the beat pulsing through the buildings. 

"I love you." he says again, because he can, because everything is new and exciting, and because he's young and in love and time sometimes feels meaningless.

Phil gently nudges him towards a tree and Dan can feel the rough bark through the thin fabric of his drenched t-shirt. "I love you too," Phil whispers as the music seems to swell louder and louder.

Then Phil kisses him, slow and warm and steady, as Dan slides his hands under the flannel to feel the damp skin beneath and thinks _i_ _t's always going to be this much of a miracle._


End file.
